Let Me Be Your Teddy Bear
by JoBethMegAmy. my homegirls
Summary: Just a quick 4x14 oneshot because I could not get over the idea of Jane being sad about Frank and Maura comforting her over it all.


**A/N**: So I couldn't just sit idly by after watching 4x14 and all the beautiful emotions it brought out in the wonderful cast. If only the darn case didn't get in the way - there was so much more we should've been able to see. Mostly I was moved by Jane crying and being like "I'm sorry, Maura," which is what led to this **oneshot**.

* * *

_Just so you know, you had nothing to apologize for_.

Jane sat and looked at the text for probably at least a solid two minutes. It was rare she got to feeling like this, with dozens of nameless emotions coursing through her and no words to articulate them. She was surprised Maura had chosen to text her about this. It was such a nightmare.

_**You shouldn't have had to hear all that and see all that Rizzoli family drama crap. I'm sorry.**_

The response was immediate: _I told you not to apologize. Are you home?_

_**No. I'm in the parking lot of my dad's motel. I was about to leave when you texted, and you know texting and driving is dangerous, so...**_

When Maura didn't respond right away, Jane wondered if that meant she should just get going. Crashing with a bottle of beer didn't sound so awful just now, but part of her still wanted to wait to see if Maura would reply. She turned on the car but not the engine, taking her time picking a radio station as she waited for a text. (The reason it had taken Maura so long was not that Jane's last message had gone ignored; quite the opposite, in fact. She wanted to craft a perfect response.)

_Would you like to come back here?_

_**I don't know. It's late**__._

Maura took the "I don't know" to mean that Jane would at least consider it. _Please, Jane. You can spend the night_ _if you want. _

Jane _was _tired, and the thought of getting some rest on one of Maura's nice mattresses with her smooth sheets and cozy blankets sounded really good. So before she could change her mind and worry about being a further burden, she simply typed back –

_**Ok**__. _

When Maura answered the door, she had already changed into a set of dark blue silk pajamas. She saw that Jane must have stopped at her apartment on her way, because she was in a pair of sweats and a hoodie instead of her work clothes. One of them shut the door and Jane pulled Maura into an embrace.

This wasn't like the hugs they usually had, which were most commonly an equal give-and-take, and if not, Jane was the one sort of holding up Maura for support. Until now, Maura had never realized how heavy grief was; Jane almost felt like a deadweight in her arms. Maura had seen Jane emotional before, had seen her tear up before, but never quite in the way Jane had looked and sounded while she was chewing out her father. Tears stung her own eyes as Maura realized Jane had started shaking with repressed sobs, and Maura tightened her hold. She'd never had to be strong for someone before the way Jane had been trying to stay strong for her family, her mother in particular. She couldn't imagine how exhausting that must be.

"Let it out, Jane," she whispered. "It's all right. You're safe here." _You're safe with me_.

"I'm sorry, Maura, I—"

"Sh." Maura pulled back enough to press a quick kiss to Jane's cheek. "I told you, please stop apologizing to me."

"Pop said he wanted a nice family dinner, and Ma said we should have it here because we—I dunno, because…"

"Your mother and I talked after she saw Lieutenant Cavanaugh out," Maura said, rubbing Jane's back. "You don't have to explain anything."

Jane sniffed loudly. "Can we just stand like this for a while?"

Maura swallowed back what might have been at least a small sob, and gave Jane a light squeeze. "Of course."

Neither was sure how long they actually stayed in the entryway of the house, but Maura at least silently reflected it was the longest amount of time they had spent together without talking. She certainly wasn't going to be the one who moved first: Jane needed her, and she needed this embrace, and Maura didn't care if they stood there all night—if that's what Jane needed, then that was what was going to happen. "Patient" wasn't quite the word to use to describe Maura's attitude, because that indicated Jane's behavior was somehow something only to be tolerated, something annoying even. Maura closed her eyes, listening and feeling for changes in Jane's breathing pattern. Every time Jane took a deep breath, once she exhaled, Maura would squeeze her a little harder. She wasn't sure why, or sure if Jane even noticed. It wasn't even really a conscious move; it just felt like the right thing to do.

Eventually, Jane let out one heavy, shuddering breath that ended with a bit of a laugh. "Did anyone ever tell you how good you are at hugging?" That got a small chuckle out of Maura, and Jane pulled back enough to look her in the face. "Oh! Honey, you're crying!"

"And you'd better not tell me you're sorry," Maura said, and even though she was smiling, her eyes were red and her cheeks damp. "You are my family, Jane, and I love you. When you hurt, I hurt."

That shouldn't have been a novel concept, but to Jane, that simple sentiment was a revelation.

"You look exhausted," Maura said. "Do you want to sleep?"

"I…I want to lie down, yeah," Jane answered with a small nod. "But I don't know if I'm going to be able to fall asleep."

"Do you want to talk?"

The response was quiet, almost a breath: "Yeah."

Maura murmured "okay," and led the way to the guest bedroom. Out of habit more than anything else, Jane walked around to the other side of the bed and flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh. After a moment's hesitation, Maura sat down on the side nearest the nightstand lamp, and Jane shot her an expectant glance.

"Um…do you want me to turn off the light?" Maura guessed.

"Sure," Jane said. "But um, I just meant you should lie down if you want to."

Nodding, Maura switched off the lamp and purposefully lay on top of the covers as Jane got beneath them on her side of the bed. They lay in silence in the dark for some time, and Maura blindly sought out Jane's hand. She found her wrist, and from there was able to easily slide her hand down, interlocking her fingers with Jane's.

"I can't imagine what that all must have looked like to you," Jane finally said.

Maura sighed. "I suppose I was never really close enough to my parents to warrant any kind of arguments like that."

"Plus I'm sure you were the perfect kid," Jane chuckled. "Probably hard to get in trouble."

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and Maura looked over at Jane, who was staring up at the ceiling. By many standards, Maura supposed she _had _been an ideal child, but that wasn't the point worth discussing here. Frank had shown a tremendous amount of disrespect to his sons, but had said nothing to Jane. Maybe he just hadn't gotten the chance before the dinner party ended, or maybe he wouldn't have been able to come up with any criticisms for the child Maura had privately observed seemed to be his favorite.

"When Tommy was born, or I guess when he was old enough to have a bed and not a crib in my parents' room, I got my own room," Jane said. "I used to share one with Frankie, but Ma thought it made more sense for the boys to share. I was still young though, and I couldn't remember ever having a room to myself before. I missed sharing with Frankie. We used to talk about stuff and laugh and tell each other jokes before we went to bed. We used to have our stuffed animals talk to each other, and sometimes they got into fights."

She laughed a little, and Maura's heart clenched at the sweet sound.

"Pop noticed I was a little sad, I guess. And so every night when Ma was reading a bedtime story to Frankie and Tommy, Pop would come lie down with me and tell me stories until I fell asleep. Sometimes he'd make shadow puppets and he'd like … he'd have them talk to me, and I would talk back. He was pretty good at putting on voices—or, I guess I thought so when I was a kid, at least."

"That sounds nice," Maura said, out of lack for anything better to say.

Jane nodded. "Yeah, it was. Even when I was older, we used to sort of have this joke, like um… he'd say I was his favorite daughter, and I'd say I was his only daughter, and… I know it's sort of a dumb thing that a lot of parents and kids probably do, but it was …I dunno, it felt like our thing. Is that dumb?"

Maura would have given anything to have a relationship with her father where they had a joke that felt unique to them. "It's not dumb."

"It just makes me kinda wonder…"

"Wonder what?"

"What he'd have said about me, if he'd gotten the chance."

That's what Maura had been afraid of. "Jane, how could he criticize you?"

"Uh, very easily," Jane snorted.

"Objectively speaking, you are a very successful person."

Jane fidgeted, but kept her hand in Maura's. "He'd have found something. I'm not so hot, Maura."

"I beg to differ, you're extremely hot!" Maura contested, hoping that the wording would at least get Jane to laugh. And she did succeed in at least that. "Really, Jane, you don't give yourself enough credit. It's clear that your father has a special kind of trust in you. That's why you're the one he confided in about his cancer. That's why it was your apartment he went to all those months ago when he was going to get married."

"To Lydia, oh my God," Jane groaned, rubbing her forehead. "Maura, my father was using me. He _knew _that our relationship was special, and he _knew _it was going to be too hard for me to turn my back on him like Ma and Frankie did. And he knew that I actually could have clout with them, not like Tommy."

"I don't think your father was trying to manipulate you," Maura insisted. "Is it so awful to have that be your reputation, Jane? To be the reliable one, the one he trusts?"

"Yes!" Jane blurted. "Yes, Maura, it's _awful! _You know what it means being the good one in your family? You—I'm sorry, I know you mean well, but you have no idea what it means when you don't have any siblings you get compared to. And I'd have to hear Frankie and Tommy complain about it all the time growing up, how Pop especially would always compare them to me, why couldn't they make state like I did, why couldn't they get good grades like I did, stuff like that. You know what that means for me? You know what that means for the 'reliable' oldest sibling who always works hard and does well in school and goes to church every Sunday without complaint? It means when you screw up, _you have failed unforgivably_. You can't tell _anybody _about it because _you are the good kid_, for years your father tells you how proud he is of you and how much he loves you _BECAUSE _you don't screw up! _Because _that is your reputation, because you are the golden child you never makes a mistake and if you do, God help y—who even _knows _if God would help you, because he knows too, he knows that you are your father's good kid!"

She was too upset to lie down, and had launched herself into a sitting position, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them to her. Maura felt blindsided by this sudden rant, and quickly sat up as well. She threw one arm around Jane's shoulders, consolingly running her other hand up and down Jane's arm.

"It traps you," Jane said. "It _traps _you, Maura. Almost every choice I ever made, I did because I knew it would make my father proud. I would _die _if I ever disappointed him. Ma, I could live with. But Pop? I could never let him down. What do you do when your hero—when the person you've made so many of your life choices for—lets you down like this?"

"I don't know," Maura said quietly, and she'd never hated herself more for having to give that answer. "I'm so sorry, Jane, I wish there was something I could say—"

"Don't," Jane whispered, and she touched Maura's hand. "I know there's not really much you could say to that. But you listened, and that means a lot. It does."

Maura started to lie back, and gently pushed on Jane's arm to get her to do the same. "I'm the one who should be apologizing," Maura said, and before Jane could interject, she went on, "I—you know I've never had a best friend before, Jane. So I don't know what the protocol is for loud family dinners. I should have said something. I should have told him to get out of my house."

"What? Maura, no. We're the ones who made you host him, it was our responsibility to end it."

"He insulted my family under my roof. And he did this to you. That is not acceptable, and I should have told him so."

Jane rolled onto her side and drew Maura into as much of an embrace as she could. "You are fine, Maura. You did just fine," she whimpered, tears threatening to fall again. "I've been setting a lousy example myself lately."

"Of what?"

"How a best friend's supposed to act. You've been going through so much crap this year with Hope and Cailin and—all I did was complain to you about Casey. I suck."

"You don't. You were going through a rough time."

"So were you. I should've been there for you."

"We're here now," Maura said, pressing another kiss to Jane's cheek. "Let's focus on that."

After a short silence, Jane asked, "How _would _I survive without my best friend?" (There was no way to respond to this, which she knew. Maura wasn't entirely sure if Jane was teasing her or not.) "Maura?"

"Yes?"

"I never…if someone had told me as a kid that this would happen, that my family would lose my father this way, I'd never have believed it. And I'd never believe that I'd be able to make it. We probably couldn't have made it without your help. Thank you."

"It's all right, Jane. I love having your mother here."

"That's not what I mean. It's not _all _I mean, anyway. I don't know what I would do without you, Maura. I mean, if someone had told me as a kid that one day I'd come to depend on and love and _cherish _a woman as much as I depend on and love and adore you, I'd never have believed them."

Maura couldn't help smiling through her tears. It could not be repressed. "That goes double for me, Jane."

"M-Maura?"

"Yes?"

"I…" She took a quick, shuddering breath. "I love you." _Please don't ever go_.

Maura took a deep breath, relaxing her. "I love you, too, Jane. And don't worry. No matter what happens, I wouldn't leave you."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated :)


End file.
